As the Ashes Drift
by Miss Hikari Minamoto
Summary: In her hand, she holds these letters. Words, that she says, are best left unspoken. In the warm summer breeze, they turn to ash and drift away forever. Yes, she says as they burn away – it is better to let these feelings burn. AU
1. Prologue

**Title**: As the Ashes Drift

**Author**: .Miss Hikari Minamoto.

**Disclaimer**: Durr, I don't own any characters.

**A/N**: This is an AU Hetalia fic, which means I'm writing as if the characters were just ordinary people you'd meet on the street.

Also, I've named Vietnam 'Lien', which roughly means 'Lotus' (their national flower). . .It kinda just made sense.

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**As the Ashes Drift**

**[** _Prologue_**]**

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The world was never kind to her.

But. . .to say it was _cruel_ would only add insult to injury. The young girl has her pride after all, and to brood about her misfortune would be shameful. Unacceptable. . .

Dark eyes flutter open and look up to the vast blue sky embracing her homeland. Her heartbeat slows for a moment as the summer breeze picks up and tugs at her long black hair and the folds of her simple _áo dài__._ She smiles, albeit sadly, and then removes the _nón lá_ from atop her head and lets it rest against her back, the silken tie gracing her neck more elegantly than a string of fine pearls. Everything about her appearance is simple and rather ordinary. She is a pretty girl with dark eyes and long dark hair, but otherwise she is unremarkable. Though born into the quiet life of a rice farmer, she's worked hard at her studies to be accepted at a prestigious university. Was it this ambition that has worked against her?

Was a bit of respect too much to ask for?

Lien smirks and shakes her head, sighing and leaning against her rice paddle for support underneath the summer sun. A remnant of the war that tore her nation in two, she has seen more than her share of suffering in life. . . Haunted memories and ugly scars are all she has of those days, though it is for a brighter future that she now strives and toils so relentlessly for. Her heart aches for this country, it aches for her family scattered across this vast continent, and it aches for those she's come to love. . .

It aches for what she's lost.

The girl holds in her hand a small bundle of letters – some are messages to those whom she knows she will probably never see again, but others are words she knows she will probably never say aloud. Whether it is for the sake of peace or perhaps a deeper reason, only she truly knows. They are words left unspoken that eventually forced their way out, leaking themselves onto the bundles of cheap notebook paper she now holds in one hand. Lien's smile fades into a sigh, her dark eyes saddened as she quietly pulls a match from her pocket and lights it beneath the ink-stained papers. . .

It is better they remain unspoken.

It is better this way, she says to herself as the paper is slowly devoured and fades into the wind. It is better that her feelings turn to ash in the summer breeze, because if she forgets these words then she can let go of the heartache that inspired them in the first place. She can burn away the bitter words she's wanted to say for so long, the whisperings of her heart, the embarrassing admittances of admiration. . . As the flames curl around the last bits of paper and drift away, Lien quietly replaces the leaf hat once more upon her head – pulling it down so that her face is hidden. In this vast expanse of land, where Heaven is said to touch the earth, no one can hear the sound of her heart breaking. . .

Yes, she says – it is better this way.

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**A/N:**

_nón lá:_ cone-shaped leaf hat, commonly worn in Vietnam

_áo dài:_ national dress – a long tight-fitting tunic usually accompanied by loose pants


	2. Letter One

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**As the Ashes Drift**

**[** _Letter One_**]**

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You and I. . .

How is it that we became this way? . . . How did we grow so close, and then fall apart as we did? If this is how it was going to be, I wish with all of my heart that I had never met you. I wish that I had never been where I was that day, fumbling helplessly as I was. I wish I had never shed a tear. I wish with every fiber of my being that I had been stronger – if only for that moment in time, so that I would not have caught your attention like I did. I did not want your help, but you insisted despite that. You told me to trust you...

And I was such a fool.

Why is it that you found an interest in me? Is it because I look so small and vulnerable? I told you that I could take care of myself, but you would not listen. You never listened to a word I said. You accompanied me back to my home, you sat me down gently, and you brushed away my tears with such a gentle hand. Your touch was warm, just as your eyes were. I can remember how they smiled back into my own two, and filled me with a sense of calm for some reason. You told me to trust you, and I did. I told you my troubles and poured out my very heart to you. And you smiled back kindly. With a wary spirit, I decided to take a risk with someone who I barely knew – had met just moments before. It was a terrible mistake as I learned later on. I had no idea what it was you were capable of.

I remember every word that passed between us that day. Every murmur. Every sigh. I told you how my heart was being torn apart by the grim uncertainty of my future. I had just enrolled at the local university, breaking the traditions of my ancestors and turning from a life of simplicity and agriculture to one of complexity and education. All my life have I been tormented by my older brother and those who saw me as weak and vulnerable. I wanted respect. I wanted dignity. I was taking a step towards a brighter future, but I could not help but question if what I was doing was right. I told you about my dearest friend, who had offered his advice so many times before. But now. . .now my friend was far away, and I did not know what to do. Should I change my ideals and become as he was? Or should I continue on the path I had been walking up until this point? You had a look of understanding and fierce determination in your eyes that day. I remember because it scared me so. I heard you say that I should not trust the man I called my dearest friend, and that you would help me – no matter what it took or how long, you would be there to help me find my way. You promised.

I was such a fool to believe that you would ever keep your promises. . .

I wanted to ask my friend for his advice, but you told me that his counsel was naught but poison. Regardless, I secretly exchanged letters with him – telling him of my newfound companion from across the seas. I told him that I was happy, but when he wrote back, I found that he was not pleased with what I had done. My dearest friend did not trust this new acquaintance of mine, and he warned me to rid myself of this plague before it became my undoing. But I ignored his words. I ignored the one whom I should have trusted more than anything in the world, when instead I trusted you. How foolish of me. How stupid.

As time passed, our bond grew stronger. I would look at you and feel my heart smile as if it had been touched by sunlight. After years of fighting with others, I thought that you would help me find the peace I so craved and longed for. You had promised after all, and I trusted you. I loved you. I loved you with everything I had and gave you equally as much. What more did you want of me? Should I have carved out my heart with a knife for you? Somehow, I doubt that even this sacrifice would satisfy your selfishness. I can still remember how you took from me, every night, as if I was yours. You made me believe I was at one point, but now I know better. I could never give myself to someone like you, not ever again. Death might even be a kinder fate. . .

The way your lips hungrily crashed upon mine and the way your hands memorized my every curve made me feel as if I was needed and cared for. I pulled you close as your fingers would tangle in my long hair, your breath warm and heavy against my neck as you tasted every bit of skin you could. I pulled you closer and yet closer still until there was no more space between our bodies. Your warmth was something I learned to crave, more so than anything else. When I think back on these nights, my skin crawls knowing how deeply you touched me and how easily I allowed it. This is almost enough to sicken me to my stomach, and I hate myself for giving so much to you without even thinking twice.

It had been quite some time that you'd been with me, yet for some reason – nothing seemed to have been solved. I still knew nothing about who I was, or where I was going. You seemed to try, but we would always end up back at square one. I was frustrated, but you continued to smile. You always smiled, even on the very worst of days. It something I loved then, but now hate with every fiber in my body. You told me not to worry. You told me to trust you.

Why is it then that you left me?

I woke one morning, startled from a nightmare. I reached out to you for warmth, comfort. . .why were you not there anymore? Where did you go? . . .Why had you not said goodbye? All I found was a note scribbled carelessly on old paper. That was as much of a goodbye as I would get from you. Can you understand how much it hurt as the realization grew on me like a fevered delirium? Do you understand how I felt, knowing you had abandoned me and broken your promise? . . .Can you begin to know how it feels having your heart torn to shreds like mine was? For some reason, I doubt this.

My dearest friend was right. He had been right all along about you, and why I had not listened was beyond me. Never had I been so hurt or betrayed in my entire life. Never had I felt so humiliated. You abandoned me. And you had not the decency to tell me why. I would rather you had shot me through the chest than simply 'give up' on me as you did. I wanted to die more than anything, but my friend managed to dissuade me from taking such drastic measures. I would not give you the sick satisfaction of knowing what you'd done – what I'd become because of you. I felt as if my eyes were opened that day. I knew which path I must now take, and I knew who I could not trust – who I would never trust. . .

Do you know? Do you know that even now I am haunted by your memory? No matter how hard I struggle to forget your face, your voice, your very touch – I find that I cannot. And for this, I hate myself. I hate myself because I know that somewhere in my bleeding heart, I still harbor some form of love for you and it sickens me to know this. I have moved on since that day when you left, but a part of me still refuses to do so. We were happy once. Do you realize how glad you made me? Do you realize how completely and utterly happy I was with you? . . .

But what was it about me that _you_ hated so much?

Why was I not good enough for you? Why was I not worth your trouble? Every day, I must look in the mirror and ask myself these questions. What was it that made you leave me like that? What wrong did I commit against you to deserve this? Surely, there must be something. . . Food does not taste the same as it once did, and the sun seems dim for some reason. Why is it that I cannot find the strength to smile? When did I forget how to laugh freely as I once did? There is heaviness in my chest now, as if somebody replaced the heart that beat so strongly for a piece of stone. My friend from the north tells me to forget you, but it is not so simple. . .not when you touched every part of me as you did, going so far as to ruin my heart recklessly. Thoughtlessly.

I want you to know I am moving on now. Do not try to apologize or make amends, for there is no forgiveness left in me for what you did. I am only writing to tell you that I finally managed to finish what I started, without your help and without your useless guidance. The one who helped me had been there all along, despite my childish doubts and insecurities. I was a fool to ever believe you and turn against him as I did, but it seems he is more forgiving than I. This man is someone who I love dearly with whatever is left of my heart, and I only wish I had more to give him than I do.

I know we have not spoken since that time, but I want you to know that my friend will teach me how to smile again. I want you to know that the memory of laughter is within my grasp. I want you to know this, because I want you to also know that I will never need your help or your empty promises again. I was such a fool to trust you, but now I have learned that you were yet another one of my many enemies. . .

Consider this the goodbye I never had.

If we ever meet again, do not be surprised at my coldness. You and I will never be friends, and you will never care for me. . .so now I am letting that last part of my heart that loved you free, as this is yet another step towards my bright future. I will search for the happiness you stole from me with my dearest comrade, and know that one day – I will find it.

Goodbye, Alfred.

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**A/N: **I think that Vietnam really did love America at first, but after they separated – things changed. Being half-Vietnamese myself, I wrote it based off what my mom told me about the general attitude Vietnamese people seem to have for America. Buuut~ I'm not saying this is the concrete truth. It's based off personal experience and knowledge only, so don't look too far into it (as far as politics go). Critic it on writing and story, etc. Please keep in mind that this is the first fic I've written in a while though, so no flaming please. ; n ;

_Letter Two:_ Put your parkas on people! We're heading north. ;D

xoxo,

Hikari


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